The Power of Dreams of the Green Dragon Priest had completely engulfed the city; those squirming, twisted monsters were granted a temporary slumber. Only the spasmodically twitching lumps of flesh and the filth squeezed out by the blood pumps flowing on the ground could testify to their freakish vitality.
The City of Wandering had become a grotesque and terrifying wax museum. Indescribable monsters filled your vision, and the human characteristics discovered amidst the unspeakable debris deepened the horror of this place.
For most sane people, this was a nightmare.
Nameless, on the other hand, had never worried about this. Ever since he had glimpsed the so-called face of God at that sacrificial ritual, his soul had been steadily drifting away from normality. He had originally thought that he would end his existence as an outsider, but reality turned out to be much more interesting than he had imagined.